Dominance
by SarahTonin
Summary: Francis can't believe that Arthur doesn't want to sleep with him. Sure, they got into their fights sometimes, but Francis really didn't do anything wrong this time. As Francis goes to drink away Arthur's stupidity, he comes across someone with smoke and fire and mystery. How could he resist? England x France x Scotland


I angrily shoved my phone back into my pocket. Arthur still hadn't apologized. If he was going to stand me up, the least he could do was come up with a halfway believable excuse. Family crisis my ass. I for one knew Arthur never got along with his family. Why in the world should they care about him now? I was the one who had always been there for him.

This was far from the first fight Arthur and I had. It seemed like we were almost always at each other's throats over something insignificant. Believe me, I loved him more than anything, but he could be so stupidly stubborn sometimes. A lot like me I suppose. He hardly ever let his true feelings show.

Which was why tonight was so damn frustrating! I had done absolutely nothing wrong! And he still didn't want to be with me! God, I was so horny. Was it so wrong of me to want to fuck him all night long so that in the morning neither of us could move?

This couldn't possibly be about last time. I mean, that was just ridiculous. Arthur? Topping me? I'm not even quite sure that was even possible. He was just so...je ne sais quoi...effeminate? I mean, he dreamed up fairies and unicorns for goodness sakes.

I went through the door of my favorite bar. Our favorite bar. I shouldn't have to be drinking alone tonight. Arthur would have gotten sloshed and so I'd naturally have to take him home. And we'd make sweet passionate love far into the morning hours...I could really use that drink.

Not a face in the bar was familiar to me. No one but the bartender. I slouched down on my barstool and he brought my usuals. Stupid Arthur.

* * *

"Why can't he just love me? That...That's all I ever do. I just love him so fucking much...I...I just love fucking him so much," I complained to the bartender. I was very drunk. Not quite sure how much I had, but I really don't think I was thinking straight. I gulped down the rest of my glass of Chardonnay. "He...he makes me SO mad! I wanna make him mad, too! That'll show 'im! I'll sleep with the first guy I see! He hates it when I do that."

I nodded my head. That sounded like a great idea. Maybe I was still thinking clearly. Maybe I needed more to drink.

"Francis, you've had too much to drink. That was a terrible idea. I'm cutting you off," my bartender, Mike, said. He took away my empty glasses.

I sighed. "Perhaps you're right Mike. You know me so well." I clapped his shoulder. I leaned across the bar, indicating that wanted to whisper something in his ear.

"Hey, Mike. Let's fuck." My lips closed the distance between me and his earlobe. I sucked hard as I ran my other hand over his smooth, shaved scalp.

"Jesus Christ, Francis!" He shoved my face away and wiped the saliva from his ear. "Don't you pull that shit with me! One more move like that and I'm calling the cops!"

"Alright! The more the merrier, I say!" I threw my hands up and spun around on my stool.

I caught my spinning by clasping on to the bar. How could I have possibly missed him? Sitting just a few stools away from me was possibly one of the most gorgeous specimens I had ever seen. His red hair fell into his eyes after he threw back his scotch. The jostling hair revealed a single iron ring pierced through his ear. The dark blue clothes perfectly brought out the red in his hair and the green in his eyes. And most importantly, the barstool hiked up his skirt to the middle of his well toned thighs. How could I resist when he was just begging for it like that?

"Oh, Bonne soir, mon..."

"Fuck off," he muttered before he tipped his glass back again. God, even his accent was delicious.

"Love to, but I'd rather you come with me." I sat down on the stool next to his. I placed my hands on his stool so that he turned to face me. My hands didn't move away. "What do you say?"

"I say I'm not nearly drunk enough to deal with pieces of shit like you. I've fucked sheep bigger than you, pussy." I heart felt like it was stabbed at the mention of sheep. What I wouldn't give to be fucking my precious little black sheep. Why did he force me to hurt him so?

"Oh, I think you want me." My hand moved from his stool to his thigh. It inched the hem up higher and higher. "Why else would you wear a skirt if it wasn't for," My fingers grazed his dick. He wasn't even wearing underwear, the sexy fox, "easy access?" I raised my eyebrow suggestively. If he didn't want me, why would he let me go this far?

He grabbed my wrist through his clothes before I could please him any further. He glared at me with a green fire in his eyes. It almost looked sort of familiar to me.

"By the mischief of the fae of the Unseelie court, I swear, you're going to regret this. You don't want to fuck with me, pretty boy. And it's not a skirt. It's a kilt, for fuck's sake. Get it right" he growled irresistibly low.

He threw my hand out from under his kilt. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and brought out a cigarette. He placed it between up his lips and lit it with a lighter. He inhaled deeply and slowly let out the smoke.

"And maybe I do. Why would I pass up this opportunity? I like to live everyday like it's my last."

He shuddered at that. He kept his eyes closed as he held in the smoke. He opened his eyes and blew the smoke into my face. "And what if it is?" He took another inhale of his cigarette.

I smiled. He was mine now. "Then, there's no stopping us. I'd die doing my absolute favorite thing."

I took his cigarette and crashed my lips against his. My tongue tore them apart, and the smoke seeped into my mouth. My tongue traced his lips when we parted. The smoke permeated between us.

His green eyes shone with mischief through the haze. His hand reached out and grabbed my hair at the roots. He pulled his face to mine. This time, he was the one invading. I had no control. Each kiss was burning and smoking like fire. I was helpless. His tongue roamed and prodded wherever he pleased. My hands rested on his neck, not sure whether to pull him away to regain control or to bring him closer where he could take me over completely. His hand covered mine and drew the cigarette from my fingers. He smashed the embers into the ashtray.

He finally allowed me time to breathe. I gasped out as his lips instead went to my neck. He nipped at the soft sensitive skin, leaving little spots and marks.

What I did was instinct. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. His ear was so close. My teeth closed around his iron earring and gently pulled. He groaned softly against my skin.

His kilt slid up even further. A tent formed in response to his erection. I felt him up through the soft cloth. He was already so hard.

"You lucky little fucker," he growled. "You managed to wake the monster. You better remember the name Scottie because you're going to be screaming it out well into the night."

* * *

I was in my own bed flat on my back. My whole body was sore. I don't think I had ever fucked so hard in my life. It was so violent and angry and absolutely orgasmic. I lost count of how many times Scottie made me cum. He just kept going.

I'm not quite sure how I ended up this way. This was far from the way I expected my night to go. To be fucked so hard by a stranger. But I'm not sure I felt like I wanted it any other way. And it made me feel extremely guilty. I had only wanted to truly be with Arthur until now.

I reached over to my drawer and pulled out a cigarette. I lit it up and brought it to my face to inhale the smoke. No sooner had I put it between my lips, it was snatched away. Scottie smoked on my cigarette while lying in bed.

Scottie breathed out slowly. "Not bad for my pussy-ass brother's boyfriend."

I was frozen still. This was Arthur's brother? No wonder he had seemed so familiar and beautiful to me. "Why...?"

"Why did I sleep with you? Don't know. Maybe I just want to hold it over his stupid head. He was always the star child of the family. The royal dominance of Britain. He's set to inherit everything, you know. Nothing quite says 'screw you, you bloody spoiled rotten asshole' like 'I just fucked the shit out of your boyfriend.'"

I could only stare blankly at him. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I'm going to be dead when the sun comes up," Scottie said. He took another puff of the cigarette. "I already told you he's getting everything. Gets to be an empire like he always wanted. I'll have nothing left. I can't even be a real country anymore. In the morning, I'll just disappear. Hell, I could even tell that you wanted to fuck him more than you wanted me. There's no place in this world for me anymore."

He looked back at me. "Don't worry. I'm not going to tell Arty how easy it was to jump your whore ass. I think I'll save that for torturing him in the afterlife."

I shook my head. I grabbed another cigarette from the drawer and placed it between my lips. I managed to lift myself and used Scottie's cigarette to light my own.

"You weren't too bad, either. For a dead man," I said.

He chuckled a bit. "I can see why he likes you so much. Tell him he better take care of Nessie for me."

The sunlight creeped through my window. As it hit the bed, Scottie became translucent and began to fade away. He closed his eyes to accept his death. I took my cigarette from my mouth and kissed his forehead before he was completely gone. His cigarette fell when he was no longer here, leaving a scorch mark on my sheets. I quickly picked it up and extinguished both of our cigarettes on the ashtray on my nightstand.

I laid like that, alone, for a moment. I felt about my neck. The marks Scottie had left on me faded just like he had. "Shit..." I said as I ripped out of bed. How could I have been so stupid?

* * *

I found Arthur standing by a lake. The still rising sun sent a myriad of colors flitting across the water. He didn't look towards me as I approached.

He wiped at his eyes. "You're late, you idiot." His voice was hoarse.

"I'm sorry mon cher. I should have been here for you." I wrapped my love up in my arms. His face nuzzled into my shoulder as he sobbed quietly.

We were standing before two graves. Arthur's two older brothers. One of which read Allistor "Scottie" Kirkland. He had told me how much they had bullied him when he was younger. I guess blood bonds run deep. And I hadn't believed his genuine family crisis. I should have been with him the whole time.

"I'm so sorry," I repeated. I kissed away the tears from the side of his face. After a while, Arthur finally returned my kisses. He grew bolder with each wet kiss. He paused.

"Aren't you going to take over?" Arthur asked. This was usually the part that I prevented him getting carried away. I was the one who was supposed to top.

I shook my head. "No, do as you want. I am completely and utterly yours today."

His smile quivered. Right before Arthur pulled me down for another kiss, a green fiery mischief shone in his eyes. I knew he had it in him. An empire born to dominate.


End file.
